


Something Stronger

by burn_23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post 7x11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-05 02:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10295273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burn_23/pseuds/burn_23
Summary: “We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.”― Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic, so please leave any criticism you have for me. It would be appreciated!

_“Ian Gallagher!” were your first words to the boy with fire colored hair._

_“Fuck you, Gallagher,” were you last words. The day you drove across the border without the boy you had given everything and more to._

* * *

 

It had been ten years, ten years since you had last seen Ian Gallagher. At first it was hard, Mexico wasn't friendly. But that was at first. After a few years, however, you got used to it. You made friends with a Spanish bartender who always seemed to know what was going through your head. His name was Enrique, and he was everything Ian wasn't. Of course, you tried not to think about Ian Gallagher. He was the one who had left you at the border alone, he made you go through this alone. At first you were angry, you wanted nothing more than to hate the boy you had let weasel his way into your heart. But as you grew older you realized it was what was best for the both of you. If you would've gone together, who knows what would have happened. Maybe it would've been just like you were in Chicago, scheming others so you could make a few extra dollars. Or maybe you both would've gotten your shit together and been able to make a life that was better than Chicago. But you no longer had time to think about the what ifs, should haves, and could have been. Now you were doing just fine, you had a fiancé who gave you nothing more than the love you had always wanted. He was kind, loving, gentle. His chestnut colored hair and milky way eyes let you nothing short of speechless every time you looked into them. His tan skin left you looking like a vampire next to him, but you didn’t care. He always reminded you that your skin was beautiful, as pure as the love you two shared.

Enrique was the one who pulled you out of your dark place. He was the one who held you through the nights you were left crying into the pillow over the boy who never gave you the love you knew you deserved. He was the one who would rock you gently while whispering nothing but words of encouragement in your ear while he brushed your raven colored hair away from your forehead. Enrique was the one who had put you back together when you wanted nothing more than to die. You weren’t the same boy you were ten years ago, no, you had grown into something you never knew you could be. You weren’t the thug from the Southside of Chicago anymore. You were the mechanic that La Paz, Mexico had grown to love and adore. Of course, there were the days when you missed Southside. You missed Mandy, you missed Iggy, even Joey and Collin, fuck, sometimes you missed the entire Gallagher clan even though you would never admit aloud. There was always a piece of you that would be on the Southside, and that piece was with Ian. Of course, you knew you would always love him, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to move on. If Ian could, why couldn’t you. He had told you himself, he had his shit together, he had a boyfriend, he was doing just fine without you. And that was ten years ago, for all you knew he was married now with kids or some shit. But you could never imagine him being a father with anyone else but you.

* * *

 

It took ten years, ten goddamn years of rebuilding yourself and finding out who you were for it all to hit you in the gut. Enrique had begged you to let him drag you to Mazatlán, Mexico. He had two weeks off from work, and you could afford to close the shop down for a couple of weeks. So, that’s exactly what you did. The wedding was still a year away, and you both still had time to save up for whatever you were going to lose while on vacation. Your entire way there you had a feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a feeling you could just push away. It was eating at you, begging you to turn around, come back another day, but this was Enrique’s only chance to get away until the wedding. You weren’t going to ruin all that for him. Your eyes scanned the hotel lobby slowly as you listened to Enrique babble on about everything you were going to do once you were both settled in.

Three days into the trip and you needed something stronger than coffee to get you through the day. Enrique was running you all around the place, he was like a damn dog chasing after tennis balls trying to play fetch. That was a part of the reason you fell in love with him in the first place. He seemed to always have this childish sense of life to him, and it was something you were never allowed to have.

                But there you were, settled at a bar stool nursing a tequila in your right hand when you felt the air in the room change. The hair on the back of your neck stood, and your blue eyes searched the room for whatever it was trying to find. As soon as your eyes landed on him however it was as if time had stopped completely. Ian fucking Gallagher was settled in a booth across the room alone with a menu in his hands studying it as if it held the worlds answers. Your eyes take their sweet time admiring the man sitting before you. It was as if he hadn’t aged a day, sure he filled out even more. The man had always been rock fucking solid, something you were always a little jealous of. His hair seemed even brighter than before. As much as you hated to admit it, he looked good. More than good. Ian was fucking beautiful. He always had been. The past ten years had been good to him, that much you could tell. It was as if you were glued to your seat, tequila burned your throat as you downed the rest in one go finally tearing your eyes away from him.

                You knew it was stupid, you just needed to get out of there. You tell yourself to not go over there. Don’t be a fool and try to speak with him. You knew it was stupid. There was nothing left to say. Bullshit. There was everything left to say. You could feel eyes on you, and it didn’t take a genius to know who it was. Cutting your eyes across the room you found his in the crowd, watching you as if there was nothing more in the world he wanted to do. You wanted to punch that face, the one you had touched so many times. Another part of you however, another part of you wanted to do nothing more than to wrap your hands in that red hair and hold him. You wanted to scream at him, you wanted to demand answers, you wanted to tell him how much it hurt. But you also wanted to feel yourself pressed against him one last time.

                In a matter of moments however, the trance you two had been in was disrupted. Someone moved to sit next to you, and he threw his arms around your shoulders pressing a sloppy yet loving kiss to your temple with a bright grin. Your eyes found Enrique beside you, making warm conversation with the bartender with a bright grin on his lips. You no longer felt Ian’s gaze either, and when you looked back your heart seemed to fall to your feet. Of course, he wasn’t really here alone. You watch, as a man dropped down beside him sliding an arm to wrap around the red heads waist to pull him close and kissing him softly. He was just as beautiful, his mocha colored skin seemed to compliment the other boys pale skin. He held no resemblance to you, just like Enrique had no resemblance to Ian. And that’s when you see it, the silver band decorating the fourth finger on his left hand.

                You look away quickly, not wanting to give yourself away. You order another drink and chuckle as Enrique scolds you even though he knows you always limit yourself. But right now, you wish you were drunk, drunk enough to get the fuck out of here and never come back. You try to figure out what’s going through his own head. Did you even cross his mind after you crossed the border? Or did he carry on with his life as if nothing ever happened? You wanted to ask, wanted to know. You wanted to know why he decided to back away. You couldn’t handle the “this isn’t me anymore,” bullshit he had fed you all those years ago, but what would his answers change? Absolutely nothing. There was no going back. You were happy, and he looked just as happy.

                As you wrap a hand around Enrique’s thigh you tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. Maybe it could’ve been forever if you would’ve met in another life. A life where you didn’t meet on the Southside. A life where Terry never happened, bipolar never happened, prison never happened. But it all happened, nothing was going to change that. Your eyes betray you as they cut back across the room, and you see him one more time. Slipping out of his chair and disappearing into the crowd not knowing if he had spared another glance in your direction. You watch him walk away, keeping track of him through his hair. But soon enough he is gone with the night.

                You turn your attention back on the man who had put you back together. You watch his eyes shine as he animatedly moves his hands around telling the bartender stories about his ‘wild years,’ and you smile. Because you know this is where you belong. Ian Gallagher was your past, and this was your future. You don’t have time to think about the what ifs, could’ve been, or should have been. There isn’t time to dwell on the past when you have this future ahead of you.

Or so you thought.

Ian fucking Gallagher.


End file.
